


Buyer Beware

by GiantPurpleCephalopod



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 01:11:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3190223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiantPurpleCephalopod/pseuds/GiantPurpleCephalopod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk buys himself a new sex toy. He really should have read the back of the box more closely ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buyer Beware

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, nor any rights to the universe and characters contained therein. It is not my intention to misuse said characters or universe, or to cause offence through this work of fanfiction.  
> Warnings: This work contains explicit sexual content, including that of a homoerotic nature. If you believe that this would cause you offence, please click the ‘back’ button now.  
> If you wish to proceed, please be aware that the premise of this story is very silly. You have been warned.  
> Also, this is my first work posted to this site. Please forgive, and advise of, any formatting errors.

The screeching of the alarm woke him. It was 05:00. Jim blinked bleary eyes against the lights which had been inexplicably left on. He felt confused, and his whole being was consumed with the conviction that something was terribly wrong. It took a moment for the intense ache and shuddering sensation in his lower half to register. How he had dozed off in spite of it was something of a mystery, with complete and utter exhaustion as the only possible explanation. He growled and gritted his teeth against the pain as he rolled over in bed, contemplating the seemingly innocuous events of the last few hours that had led him to this situation of abject misery.

_20:25 ship's time, the night before:_

James Tiberius Kirk brushed aside the vague feeling of embarrassment that he felt when first entering the store. He was a starship captain; a veteran of innumerable starship battles and barroom brawls; a hero of no small renown. He refused to be daunted at the prospect of buying a sex toy.

The small store on Space Station K-7 was discreetly tucked away between a shabby restaurant selling 'Chinese-Martian Fusion Cuisine' and an Andorian Boot-maker. The beaded curtain hanging in the doorway rattled as Jim slipped inside. Within, he found a far bigger store than he had expected. The latest hit from Argelius II, garbled through the store's tinny speakers, assailed his ears. Shelf after shelf of assorted sex toys and paraphernalia were crammed inside, and as the store also catered for species other than humans many of these seemed mind-bogglingly improbable.

Fighting down any lingering feelings of trepidation, Jim wandered idly down the nearest aisle, searching for the section catering specifically to human males. He found it, eventually, right down the back. There he was- again- confronted with far more choice than he had expected. After nearly half an hour examining a vast selection of butt-plugs (both regular and vibrating); dildos; vibrators, and other assorted toys Jim finally settled on one of the simpler, moderate-sized vibrators- one that was shaped to look like an actual penis. The little plastic window in the box showed that this one was a deep green colour. The colour put him in mind of the slight flush that sometimes entered Spock's cheeks and the tips of his ears during physical exertion. It seemed fitting - after all, it was his unobtainable first officer whose chiselled visage and sculpted form most often formed the basis of his lustful imaginings. Plucking the box off the shelf, Jim took his selection to the counter at the front.

The plump woman behind the counter smiled cheerily and greeted him with a: "how'd you go, pet?" Jim sat his selection on the counter, exchanging small pleasantries with the woman with his mind on auto pilot. She seemed to approve of his choice, making some comment about that particular model being 'special', but he wasn't really listening. The woman handed Jim his purchase in a discreet paper bag and he gave her his thanks. After leaving the store he strode through the space station with the bag tucked safely under his arm, heading for the station's transporter room. He had the rest of the night off, and he intended to spend it aboard the _Enterprise, _in his cabin, alone with his ... thoughts.__

oOo

Jim didn't normally feel the need to make any sort of special preparations before turning to the companionship of Mrs Palm and her five lovely daughters. Tonight, however, was different. He was in the mood to pamper himself a little -hence the new toy. Setting his prize down on the bed he moved efficiently about his cabin, getting things ready.

First, he lowered the lights to 30%. The warm gloom was comfortable- intimate- softening the Spartan practicality of the mostly bare grey walls. Then he put on some low music; erotic and sensuous - the sort of music an Argellian or perhaps a Risian girl might dance to. He hoped that, as well as helping him get in the mood, it would cover any noises he or his new green friend might make. Next, he lit a stick of incense that quickly flooded his quarters with its spicy cinnamon scent. The smell of it gave the captain's cabin an exciting, exotic feel. He retrieved the little bottle of lube from his top draw, and removed his new toy from its cardboard box. Its green colour was particularly vibrant against the red and gold checked bed sheets. Finally, Jim stripped off his clothes, folding them neatly and placing them aside before lying down and wriggling until he was comfortable.

Jim closed his eyes. He rolled his shoulders whilst exhaling slowly, breathing deeply of the spicy air. The sheets were deliciously cool and smooth against his bare skin. Relaxing, the captain allowed his calloused fingertips to brush, feather-light, over the planes and hollows of his well-muscled body; caressing chest, stomach and thigh. Though he knew it was foolishness to engage in such forbidden thoughts - the one of whom he dreamt was unobtainable - Jim allowed himself to fantasize that it was another man's fingers that ghosted over his skin; a man whose fingers were long and elegant; always so skilful, whether they were flying over the controls of the science officer's console or delicately plucking a melody from the strings of his lyre.

After squeezing a little of the lube onto his fingers, he wrapped his hand around his stiffening cock, rolling his hips upwards as he gave himself a few languid pumps. With his other hand he quested lower, caressing and fondling the warm weight of his testes. Then lower still, where he gently pressed the tip of one slick digit against the tiny starburst opening there. All the while he kept his first hand idly stroking his erection. His lips parted, a small gasp escaping him as he pressed his finger inside. It had been so long since Jim had had a chance to just _relax. _He had sometimes tried to dampen the flames of his desire by losing himself in fantasy whilst in bed with other men - that was to say, men other than Spock- but the presence of the other person, the need to make sure that their desires were being met too (Jim refused to be a selfish lover) was too distracting, and he could never hold on to the fantasy. Now he was alone, and could indulge himself as he liked. He pumped his finger gently in and out, and a small 'mmm' of pleasure escaped him. With his eyes still tightly closed he imagined a strong, lithe body atop him, pressing him into the mattress with its unexpected weight. He added a second finger, breathing heavily and rocking his hips as he pictured his dream-lover's green-flushed face, raven-dark bangs ever-so-slightly mussed and out of place. Jim scissored his fingers, accidentally brushing against his prostate. He gasped and moaned, arching his back, seeking contact with the fictitious body above him. His eyes flew open and he grunted with disappointment at the reminder that there was no one there. He decided to forego adding a third finger. Instead he picked up his new toy, thoroughly coating it with lubricant before positioning it at his twitching entrance. He inhaled deeply. He exhaled slowly. Then he pushed it inside.__

The toy began to vibrate before Jim even had a chance to search for an 'on' button. He was instantly assailed by the most intense pleasurable sensations. It felt far, far better than he could possibly have imagined. Though his eyes flew open it was not the plain grey ceiling of his cabin that greeted him. Instead he saw dark brown eyes that locked with his - like twin chocolate pools into which Jim could sink forever. He could _feel _the full, bowed lips that descended on his for a scorching kiss, all grazing teeth and plundering tongue. Jim moaned wantonly, tossing his head from side to side on the pillow. It was but fantasy, and yet it seemed so _real. _The dream-Spock trailed blisteringly hot kisses down his throat to nip and lick at his collar bone, raking his nipples and the hard muscles of his abdomen with those perfectly manicured nails.____

Jim's hands were moving frantically. While one stroked and squeezed at his straining erection, the other worked the vibrator, pistoning it in and out as it quaked and shuddered. He imagined that it was dream-Spock thrusting inside of him; snapping his lean hips between Jim's spread legs with a most un-Vulcan-like passion. Dream-Spock was handsy - one moment bruising Jim's hips with the force of his fingers, the next running the index and middle fingers of each hand up and down Jim's sides in a firm but gentle caress.

Jim bucked his hips sharply; he had found that sweet, sweet spot. It was too much pleasure. In spite of his legendary stamina he lasted only a minute more before a toe-curling, mind-blowing orgasm ripped through his body. He sprawled, panting, on the sweat-damp sheets, his body still rocking with pleasant tremors. Jim blinked as the green-flushed face before him waivered. He blinked again, and dream-Spock was gone.

Jim shook his head to clear the cobwebs. His fantasy had been so vivid and had felt so real he almost couldn't believe that he was alone - had been alone the whole time. His body felt relaxed and heavy, and he couldn't hold back an enormous yawn. But his belly was splattered with the sticky leavings of his passion, and he needed to wash (and probably change the sheets) before he could sleep.

He ran his thumb over the end of the vibrator, which was just protruding from the tight embrace of his rear. There was no 'off' button there - the sex toy was still buzzing merrily away inside him. Jim took a hold of the end and pulled - but nothing happened. He tried squeezing down on it instead, thinking maybe he could push it out from within, but still nothing.

_The vibrator would not come out!_

It was most bizarre. The vibrator was nestled quite comfortably inside him, thrumming away, the pleasurable sensations it was causing already arousing new interest in other parts of his body. It didn't _feel _stuck. But stuck it was.__

At first he wasn't overly worried - a little puzzled, yes, but not worried. But after an hour passed, and then two, and no matter what Jim tried he couldn't get the damn thing out he began to feel really rather anxious. He couldn't even work out how to turn it off. He had tried _everything _he could think of- from pulling it to twisting it to trying to squeeze it out. The continued stimulation was gradually becoming less and less pleasant. Jim bit down on his finger, trying to think. The damn thing was so distracting!__

He was just wondering where he had dropped the cardboard box it had come in as it had just occurred to him that it might contain some hitherto unnoticed instructions on how to deactivate and remove the damn toy- maybe it was under the bed? - when the light above his door began to flash red and a blaring alarm rang out.

_Red Alert. Red Alert. All decks on Red Alert. Red Alert._

Jim cursed softly as his comm station crackled. "Of all the luck..." he growled to himself as Lt. Uhura's voice rang out: _"Captain Kirk to the Bridge. Captain Kirk, acknowledge. Captain Kirk to the Bridge." _He slammed a hand down on the button. "This is Captain Kirk. I'll be right up."__

There was nothing for it. His ship needed him, stuck sex toys be damned! Jim grabbed his uniform from beside the bed, wincing with discomfit as the vibrator jostled inside him as he pulled his black uniform trousers on. Luckily, the damnable thing seemed pretty well silent. He hurried from his room, doing his best to walk normally and not waddle, pulling on his gold uniform shirt as he went.

He stepped from the turbo-lift onto the Bridge, taking in the frenzy of activity as he walked to his chair. He sat gingerly, grunting quietly at the discomfit caused by the still shuddering vibrator inside him. "Report,"he ordered Spock, who had at that moment approached his chair, hands clasped behind his back.

"Captain," Spock's deep, smooth voice held the tiniest hint of reproach. "This is the drill you ordered last month - I trust you had not forgotten?"

"Oh," Jim replied. He felt his face heat and found he couldn't meet Spock's eyes. "I must confess I _had." _Between his embarrassment at the lapse and the throbbing discomfit caused by sitting on the vibrator still inside him he could not help squirming slightly in his chair. Spock raised an eyebrow.__

"Captain, are you alright? You appear to be somewhat flustered."

"I -uh," Jim sucked in a breath. All of a sudden the throbbing and buzzing inside of him seemed to be increasing - as was the girth of the vibrator! Or, at least, that's how it felt. He couldn't hide his wince, or the way he writhed in his seat again. "I have something of a stomach ache," he improvised desperately. "If all's well here I think I better go back to my quarters."

At that moment he heard the _swish _of the turbo-lift doors behind him. Spock looked up at the new arrival. "Dr McCoy," he greeted. "It is well that you are here. The Captain requires your attention."__

"Oh?" Bones drawled, stepping down to the level of the captain's chair and helm. "What seems to be the matter, Jim?"

"Just a stomach ache, Bones, nothing to worry about," Jim blurted out, slipping out of the captain's chair. "I do need the little boys' room, though, rather urgently, if you'll excuse me ..."

Jim grimaced and hissed at the first step he took away from his chair. The vibrator still felt like it was growing and the damn thing was shaking so hard he was surprised his teeth weren't rattling. He only made it a couple of steps before he felt Spock's strong hand beneath his elbow. Bones was staring at him with concern written all over his face.

"You are limping, Captain," the Vulcan intoned, steadying Jim on his feet. Bones snorted. “Not to mention the fact that you look like shit, Jim. You better come down to sickbay and let me have a look at you.”

“I’d really rather not, if it’s all the same, Bones.” Jim ran his hand hurriedly through his hair, a nervous habit he could never seem to get rid of. It seemed that everyone on the bridge had turned to watch the exchange around the captain’s chair. He hoped to hell none of them noticed the embarrassing bulge in his trousers. He should have stayed sitting down – at least then he could have kept his legs crossed. “I just ate something that disagreed with me when I went down to K-7 for dinner, that’s all. I’ll be right as rain in the morning, you’ll see.”

Bones didn’t look convinced, and, though his face was as blank as usual, Spock’s hovering suggested he wasn’t any happier about the Captain’s refusal. “Well, alright,” Bones finally relented, “but I’m coming by to check on you first thing, and if I’m not satisfied that you’re 100% fit as a fiddle you can spend the day in bed, doctor’s orders.”

“Why Bones, you make that sound like a threat!” Jim managed to joke, almost sounding like his usual self. Before he could make his escape, however, Spock spoke up from behind him. “I will walk you to your cabin, Captain.” Jim licked his lips, doing his best to keep his discomfit off his face as he climbed the step towards the turbo-lift door.

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you, Mr Spock.”

“It is no trouble, Captain.”

Jim sighed, gesturing his acquiescence. The Vulcan could be more tenacious than a bulldog that had latched onto a bone. “Sulu,” he muttered, defeated, “you’re in charge.”

“Aye, sir.”

Lurching into the turbo-lift, he leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes, grinding his teeth together against the feeling of the vibrator growing until it made his temples ache and black spots danced before his eyes. He heard Spock’s deep voice instruct the lift, and felt the brief drop. The door hissed open and he let Spock shepherd him down the corridor.

The Vulcan hovered in the doorway to his quarters, clearly reluctant to leave Jim alone. For a moment Jim’s mind returned to his fantasy from earlier in the night. Something must have flashed across his face, for Spock took a sudden step forward, one hand outstretched, as if he feared that the captain might be about to fall over.

“I’m ok, Spock,” Jim murmured, opening the door to the bathroom. “Really. I… um … I’ll see you in the morning, alright?”

“Very well,” Spock’s dark eyes were focused on him with more than their usual intensity. “Remember, if you have need of me, I am only next door.”

“Yes, of course, thank you. Good night, Spock.”

“Goodnight, Jim.”

Once Spock had shut the door Jim started struggling out of his pants. By lying face down on the bed, ass up in the air and legs spread wide, he was able to get a glimpse of the vibrator in the mirror – or, at least, the very end of it, dark green against his pale skin. It really had been growing – it looked to have doubled in size, being now almost as thick as Jim’s wrist. Jim slumped down to lie flat on the bed, burying his face against the mattress. He had to find a way to get this damn thing out. It was truly beginning to _hurt. _He had until morning – there was no way he was escaping McCoy a second time and he didn’t think his pride could stand having anyone find out about this.__

oOo

_05:02, today:_

Still groggy from his small amount of not-really sleep, Jim winced as he probed the tender area around the vibrator with hesitant fingers. It seemed to have continued growing while he was asleep. He felt like he’d been _impaled. _There was no way Jim was going to be able to conceal his predicament from his crew if he tried to go to the bridge like this – assuming he could actually walk to get there.__

After a long internal debate, Jim finally admitted defeat and decided to call for help. As much as he hated the thought of another living soul knowing anything about this, Jim had come to the distressing conclusion that he couldn’t fix this problem on his own. He wasn’t sure if Bones would be up at this hour, but the grumpy doctor was the only person Jim felt he could turn to. Hauling himself to his feet with much groaning and cursing, he waddled painfully to his desk and pressed the button for communications to Bones’ personal quarters. The doctor took a moment to answer. When he did he sounded tired and alarmed.

“Jim? Is everything alright? Damn it, I knew I should’ve insisted on your coming down to sickbay!”

Jim felt that he could have almost have cried with relief that his friend was awake. “Can you come to my quarters, Bones? I – uh- I have an intensely embarrassing problem I need to see a doctor about. As quick as you can, please.”

“What? Alright, Jim, I’m on my way.”

Jim sat on the edge of the bed, squirming uncomfortably, while he waited for Dr McCoy to arrive. He was pretty sure his friend was never going to let him live this down, but he had long since passed desperate. Finally he heard the beep that signaled someone was at the door. Jim pressed a button. “Is that you, Bones?”

“No, it’s the three wise men. Of course it’s me. Let me in.”

Jim pressed the button and McCoy entered hastily, med kit in hand. His hair was mussed, as if he had spent the night tossing and turning, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He looked exactly like a man who had had no sleep. Jim felt an immediate spike of concern.

“Bones, are _you _alright? You look exhausted.”__

“I’ll be fine,” the Georgian drawled, his accent, as always, becoming more pronounced with his tiredness. “When I’m not kept up all night worrying about certain star ship captains who happen to be as tight-lipped as an Aldebaran Shell mouth about what happens to be wrong. Jim, you shoulda seen yourself! Wild-eyed as a …a… I don’t know what, and squirming like you’d sat on an anthill!” The doctor took a moment to survey his patient, and then shook his head. _“And you look worse now! _What in blazes is wrong with you?”__

“Don’t laugh,” Jim demanded, clenching his hands at his sides. The whole area had become so tender that each tiny buzz was beginning to feel like it must be making his whole body vibrate. His cheeks had been flushed all night, but he could feel the burn as embarrassment made them even redder now. He took a deep breath and blurted out: “I - I have a vibrator stuck in my ass. It’s been there all night, and no matter how hard I try I can’t get it – Bones! I told you not to laugh!”

“Sorry Jim,” McCoy chuckled, heaving a huge, snorting sigh and wiping one of his eyes with his hand. “I couldn’t help it.” He sat his medkit down on Jim’s desk. “I’m actually feeling very relieved just at the moment. This sort of problem is more routine than you might think. Ok. Lie down on your stomach and let me take a look.”

The captain did as he was told, still feeling a little bit sulky that Bones had laughed at him. After a moment he felt Bones’ finger gently probing his aching asshole. He sucked in an agonised breath, wriggling a little against the mattress, as the doctor attempted to grasp the end and pull it out.

“Hmm,” Bones murmured. “That’s odd.”

“It doesn’t feel stuck,” Jim explained. “It just won’t come out.” He shuddered as Bones took a hold of the vibrator and twisted it a little. He hated the tiny sliver of a whine that he couldn’t prevent from creeping into his voice. “You can move it any other way – I’ve tried. It’s really starting to hurt, Bones.”

“How long have you had it in there?”

“Since last night.” Jim couldn’t see Bones’ face, but he could imagine the raised eyebrow. “I actually fell asleep with it still going. I can’t find a way to turn it off either.”

“How did you turn it on in the first place?”

“It sort of turned itself on.”

“What?”

At that moment there was a whistle indicating someone else at the door. Jim heard Bones’ footsteps and then a click. “McCoy here.”

“Dr McCoy,” came the deep, cool voice of Mr Spock over the comm. “Is the Captain alright? I thought I heard a commotion.”

“Perhaps you’d better come in, Spock.”

“What?” Jim gasped, twisting on the bed. “No, wait-” But it was too late. Spock stepped into the room, one elegant eyebrow arching up very high indeed at the sight of his Captain lying naked on his bed, legs parted, and the end of the now-giant green vibrator poking out of his ass. At this moment, Jim wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out more than he had ever wanted anything in his life.

“Am I intruding?”

“Not at all,” Dr McCoy replied easily. “Maybe you can help me work this out. Our Captain has gotten himself into a spot of bother.” He gestured at Jim lying on the bed, his face now as red as a beetroot. Spock’s eyebrow was still raised, and Jim saw – just for a moment – the corners of Spock’s mouth twitch up. Jim wasn’t sure if that meant the Vulcan was surprised or amused – perhaps both.

Jim pressed his face into the mattress as McCoy explained the nature of the problem to Spock. This was a nightmare- some strange, horrible nightmare. Spock was never going to look at him the same way. The other man’s respect meant so much to Jim, and he was terrified he might have just lost it.

He heard Spock step around the bed and looked up miserably, watching the Vulcan bend down to pick something up off the floor. It was the box that the vibrator had come in.

Spock began reading the back.

“Jim,” he said after a moment. “Are you aware that there is some very, _very _fine print on the back of the box, here?”__

“Wh-what?” Jim gulped out. The sound of Spock’s deep, smooth voice combined with the incessant pounding in his ass was very arousing, in spite of his extreme discomfit. He feared he was hardening once more. What more could go wrong?

“Here,” Spock repeated, one long finger tapping the back of the box. “It states that, once inserted, the ‘toy’ must remain inside until such time as the ‘subject of your deepest desires’ removes it for you. There is a caution: it states that the ‘toy’ will assess who the subject of your deepest desires will be based on your fantasies during initial use.”

“So, if you were daydreaming about one of those old time ‘movie’ actresses again, Jimmy Boy, you’re in trouble,” McCoy intoned dryly.

“Is there a person we can fetch for you, so that the … instrument … might be removed?”

What should he say? He didn’t think he could make a confession to Spock with Bones in the room. He didn’t think he could make a confession to Spock _at all. _He was more afraid of losing Spock’s good regard than he could remember being afraid of anything in his adult life (except, perhaps, his growing fear that they would never be able to get the vibrator out). He licked his lips nervously.__

“Out with it, Jim,” McCoy actually swatted him – not too hard – on the rump. “Tell us who we need to go and fetch. And God help you if it means extra paperwork.”

“I-” Jim felt like his tongue was made of wood; like the words were stuck deep inside him (not unlike something else) and wouldn’t come out. “I can’t” he said, his voice heavy with defeat.

Spock’s eyebrow looked to be in danger of becoming fixed in a permanently raised position. McCoy rolled his eyes and huffed. “Why ever not, Jim?”

“I don’t want you to know who I was thinking about,” Jim mumbled, embarrassed. It was looking like he was going to have to confess to Spock. This really, _really _hurt. Maybe he could ask Bones to leave…__

He was jerked out of his thoughts by McCoy’s laughter. His friend had one hand resting on his belly and was cackling up a storm.

“Don’t you see, Spock? It’s one of us that he was thinking about! That’s why he’s gone all shy.”

Spock tilted his head, the corners of his mouth turning down again. “Yes, that seems a sound theory, Doctor. I will admit to being surprised, though. This is not a scenario I had ever anticipated finding the Captain in.”

McCoy snorted with laughter again. “Ha! You and me both, Spock.”

Jim groaned as inside him the toy twitched and jerked and began expanding once more. He couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t take it, _couldn’t take it! _He needed this thing out _now.___

“Spock,” he growled out through teeth gritted against the pain. “Spock, it was you, alright? I was fantasizing about you. Please. Just get this thing out of me. I can’t stand it anymore. _Get. It. Out.”_

“Of course, Jim.” Spock’s voice was gentle, his tone almost apologetic, as he hurriedly rounded the bed and knelt behind his Captain. His fingertips brushed the small of Jim’s back, trailing across the distressed Captain’s left buttock. Jim shivered. Spock hooked a thumb against his cheek, pulling it aside as much as he could, examining the massive, pulsing vibrator that protruded from Jim’s abused hole. “Please,” Jim half snarled and half sobbed. It was all over. Spock knew now. He would be disgusted by Jim’s human lusts and desires, and wouldn’t want anything to do with him ever again.

“Jim,” Spock spoke softly, his other hand giving a little squeezing caress to Jim’s right thigh. “I am aware of your thoughts; your fears. I assure you they are not true.”

Spock’s agile fingers plucked at the end of the vibrator. Jim groaned hoarsely as – miraculously- it started to slide out when Spock gave a little tug. Soon the Vulcan had the damned thing all the way out.

There were tears pricking the corner of Kirk’s eyes as lay panting on the bed, and he felt an enormous shiver run through him. Spock’s large, warm hand gave his leg another gentle squeeze. He looked up into familiar brown eyes, and what he saw there caused him to swallow against the lump that had suddenly arisen in his throat.

“Dr McCoy, I believe the Captain is in need of your assistance. The duration of the vibrator’s use as well as its size appears to have caused him considerable damage.”

“I’ll bet,” McCoy muttered, eyeing the now-giant vibrator lying on the bed next to Jim askance. “What on earth made you choose something so obscenely huge, Jim?”

Taking comfort from Spock’s continued (and unexpected) touch, now transferred to the small of his back as the Vulcan shifted over to make room for Dr McCoy, Jim held stoically still for the sting of a hypo spray in his shoulder. He couldn’t, however, suppress a shudder and a slight whimper at the gentle touch of the doctor’s fingers – spreading some sort of cool, numbing gel – in a far more tender area. “It didn’t start off that big,” he mumbled into the mattress. “It just suddenly started growing when I was on the bridge last night.”

“Jim,” Spock sounded thoughtful, as if they were discussing an interesting space anomaly on the bridge. “I believe it may have been my presence – or perhaps the sound of my voice – that elicited a response from the … object.”

Jim sighed softly, unstiffening, as the last of the pain in his backside faded beneath Bones’ skilful ministrations. He was exhausted and his body was sore, and he suddenly found himself fighting off a tremendous yawn. He wondered what had been in the hypo Bones had given him.

“Well, Jimmy boy,” McCoy smirked, wiping his hands clean on one of the towels from the bathroom. “I’m ordering bed rest for you for the next 48 hours. Absolutely – and I mean _absolutely _– no anal penetration during that time. I’m gonna have to go down to sickbay and get you a stool softener. Keep an eye on him for me while I’m gone, will you, Spock?”__

Jim heard the _hiss _of the door as Dr McCoy left the room. He swallowed audibly, left bewildered by the events of the previous 9 or so hours. But there was something that he needed to say:__

“I’m sorry, Spock,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper. “I would not have wished …”

“You would not have wished to tell me that you desired me, Jim? Or you would not have wished to have me find out in such a … unusual … manner?”

“Yes. No. Both.” Jim swallowed again. He didn’t want to look at Spock – was too embarrassed, too _bewildered _by all that had happened to be sure he wasn’t imaging what those brown eyes were telling him, so he closed his eyes. He was suddenly so very, very tired. He’d already been floundering to find the right words – now, it was all he could do to make sound come out of his mouth. “I don’t want this to ruin the friendship that we share. I treasure it more than – more than anything.”__

“As I treasure you, Jim.” Spock’s beautiful voice washed soothingly over him, and it took him several long moments to decipher the words. “Furthermore, your regret is illogical – for I desire you also. Like you, I simply could not risk compromising what we already had if my sentiments were not returned.”

“Oh.” Jim knew he should say something … romantic? Profound? He should most definitely _look _at Spock, but his eyelids suddenly seemed to weigh a tonne. He couldn’t seem to lift them. He settled for making a small, contented noise deep in his throat when Spock carefully smoothed a hand over his forehead, tingling warmth and pleasure seeming to flow in its wake. Somehow he knew – with as much conviction as he knew that the Earth circled around the sun – that Spock understood, without the need for words, or looks, or anything else at all.__

“When are you next on duty, Spock?” he asked drowsily.

“Not for another two hours, Jim. I will remain here until then. With your permission I will return once my shift has ended.”

“I’d like that,” Jim murmured. He must have fallen asleep, for he was dreaming that Spock’s warm, soft lips were pressing a chaste kiss – a _human _kiss- to his forehead. In his dream he heard the _hiss _of his cabin door and the soft rumble of Bones’ voice. He dreamt that Spock said: “Actually, Doctor, I believe I should like to keep it. As a memento, if you will.”____

Bones snorted. “Alright, if you insist.” Jim felt a cold, slight sting against his neck. Bones was still talking. “I’m gonna have to circulate another damn educational pamphlet – this one on the dangers of foreign object penetration, particularly as pertains to alien objects with unknown properties. I know Jim has probably learned his lesson, but you’d be surprised how many of these types of incidents we have to deal with down in Sickbay – particularly during a long, boring stretch of star charting.”

“I found your last pamphlet in regards to avoiding a wide range of sexually transmitted infections and addressing concerns regarding safe sexual practices in a xeno-culturally sensitive manner most informative, Doctor. I shall look forward to reading the next one.”

Bones said something else, but the dream had made it garbled, and Jim couldn’t puzzle it out. His pillow was so, so soft and his thoughts were drifting like soft, fluffy clouds …

Jim blinked awake, unable to stifle a huge yawn. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Spock sitting at his desk, a padd in front of him. When he saw that Jim was awake he cocked one elegant eyebrow, his brown eyes gentle and a hint of a smile playing about the corners of his mouth. “Did you sleep well, Jim?”

“I did, thank you. Interesting read?”

Jim smiled, rolling onto his side, as Spock began explaining the particulars and complexities of the gaseous anomaly they had passed three days previously. The Vulcan was animated, relaxed. Jim felt warm contentment unfurl within his chest and start spreading in a slow, delicious wave through his body as he remembered all that had passed between them in the last few hours. He had confessed his feelings – at least, after a fashion – and instead of the rejection he had so dreaded he found his feelings returned.

“Jim?”

He wasn’t sure how many times Spock had called his name, but the expression on his face (such as it was) was patiently amused – and fond, oh-so fond.

Jim extended his hand to Spock, index and middle fingers held tight together, in a gesture he had discreetly observed once or twice before. “Come here?” he asked, softly.

Spock rose fluidly, touching Jim’s fingers with two of his own. A delicious, tingly sensation shivered across Jim’s skin in the wake of Spock’s touch. Then Spock was leaning down, their lips meeting, and it was far, far better than Jim had ever dreamed.

_Prologue:_

“- my Captain’s chair, and … then … your science console …” Jim gasped, arching his back, as his lover pushed him down, exposing his throat to be nipped and grazed by perfect teeth. He tossed his head from side to side on the pillow, eyes fluttering closed, as the Vulcan atop him slid home, pulling a long, drawn out groan from the Captain’s lips. “So come on, Spock … uh … tell me. Where have you fantasized about us, together?”

Spock flexed and rolled his hips, running two fingers tenderly along the curve of his Captain’s sex-flushed cheek and over his lips before replying. “I believe I should like to take you on the shimmering, hot sands of Vulcan. If that is agreeable to you, of course, Jim?”

“Sounds good to me,” Jim panted, keening out a startled oath when Spock unexpectedly thrust against that oh-so-sensitive spot inside him.

“However,” Jim could feel Spock’s voice rumbling through both their chests. “I do not believe we shall ever get a chance to actually engage in intercourse in either your Captain’s chair or the science console.” The Vulcan didn’t even seem to be out of breath, despite his physical exertions. “Therefore, I suggest, if you genuinely wish to attempt to ‘live out a fantasy’ that you consider moving that fantasy to one of the science laboratories instead. At the right time of night they can be almost empty.”

“Almost?”

“I am sure we can concoct a plan to secure a lab to ourselves for at least one evening.”

“Mr Spock,” Jim gasped as the Vulcan resumed nibbling on his ear, “you have yourself a date.”


End file.
